Only the Beginning
by starbin21
Summary: They say that love begins with the best friendships, no matter how bumpy the road may be. A memoir I had to type up for my creative writing class last year.


**Author's Note:** Okay, so my creative writing teacher sadly passed away from an unexpected heart attack (he was quite healthy) in the middle of the semester, so another temporary teacher replaced him. We had to write a memoir from our actual lives, and this is the instance I chose. I replaced all the names to protect our identities, just to be clear. Otherwise, enjoy!

**Only the Beginning**

"So...do you want to go somewhere together?" I asked Clark hesitantly over the phone, trying to coax my possible-future-boyfriend into asking me out. Sure, we knew we liked each other, but Maria said that we are not going out until he officially asks me. I bit my lip in anticipation as I sat with my legs crossed on my bed.

"Sure. Would you like to go see that new movie "Wild Hogs" this Saturday?" Clark asked over the line.

"I'd love too," I replied, a grin replacing my worried look.

I'm going to skip ahead about three months. There isn't much to tell about the date, and we kept the next three months keeping our budding-relationship under wraps. We were part of two different social groups, but didn't care for that much. You see, when two close friends from different areas of middle school begin to date, it attracts stares and whispers. We were in eighth grade, almost out of middle school, and decided that it might be a good idea to let people mature over the summer before being open about our relationship.

So, like I said, we're three months from my very first date (March 11th; he asked me out on March 8th, which Maria told me is the "official" day that we started going out), which means we're in June. June is the magic month for eighth graders, because it means Recognition Night- in other words, Middle School Graduation, followed by a dance! I loved my dress. Recognition Night had been voted to be a Hawaiian theme, so I bought a white dress with red Hawaiian-flowered print. Clark looked so good in his black slacks and tan Hawaiian shirt that I couldn't stop glancing at him from my seat in the gym. I caught his eye a few times too, blushing as I looked away.

After the graduation part was over and the pictures done with, we were allowed into the cafeteria for the dance to begin. The sun was still setting, so I wasn't quite in the dancing mood yet, and neither was Clark. To this day, he's still not much of a dancer. So with the music booming from the cafeteria and some of our other friends we sat on the auditorium stage, and just talked. We talked about how middle school was finally over, and that we'd be freshman in high school after the summer. We laughed with our friends as we goofed around in the auditorium, which was missing all of its seats because it was being redone. From where we were sitting on the stage, I could see the sun set ablaze in yellows and bright oranges as it finally set over the horizon.

As the sun set, one of my favorite songs began to play, "Hey There Delilah" by the Plain White T's. I grabbed Clark's hand and jumped off the stage, leading him to the cafeteria as he chuckled and followed. By the time we got there, the song was over, so we socialized with some of the other kids in our grade. They all felt the same as we did- no one could get into the dancing mood until it was dark.

The moon finally came out to see us, and the music began to get just a little better. Everyone danced and had a good time, except for Clark and his friends who stood in a corner and talked to each other. I didn't mind at all- I was having fun dancing with my friends, and knew that we'd have time for each other later.

"Amazed" by Lonestar began to play; a love song with a slow tempo. Everyone knew what that meant- slow dance. I walked over to Clark and took his hand, tugging on it gently. He smiled and followed me, leaving bewildered looks on his friends' faces. After finding a secluded corner in the mass of dancing couples, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he wrapped his own around my waist, his hands resting on the small of my back. As the song went on, we slowly leaned forward until our foreheads touched, not speaking a single word. And then people began to notice.

"Is that _Evans_ dancing with Karen _McClain_?" I heard someone ask.

"Yo Evans! Gettin' it _on_!" This spurred a bout of laughter from the surrounding group.

More people turned to see what all the commotion was about, but Clark and I stayed firmly rooted in our spot, slowly swaying to the music, feeling our classmates' eyes burning into our heads. Our relationship was now out in the open, ripe for picking on. We didn't care.

To this day, people occasionally ask me if I'm still going out with Clark. I turn and smile, responding with, "Yes."

They raise their eyebrows in shocked surprise and whistle in a low acknowledgment, impressed that like every other middle school couple, we didn't break up in two weeks time, and are still going strong three years later, no matter how "weird" Clark is or what I tightly wound "bookworm" I am.

They're all just jealous.


End file.
